


One Thing Right

by CuteCat213



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Flynn's POV, Friends to Lovers, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-18 21:38:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 13,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2362976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuteCat213/pseuds/CuteCat213
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yuri's made mistakes, he'll admit; breaking and entering and attempted murder is a bad foot to get off on just for starters. Flynn's made mistakes, too; closing himself off from his friends and forgetting what it's like to enjoy the life he's living. They've both made mistakes; but this wasn't one of them, this was the one thing they got right. Fluri.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Flynn jerked awake at the sound of a crash downstairs, sighing as he got out of bed and slipped on his house shoes. The last time he'd heard the sound it had been because a stray cat had snuck in and decided to amuse itself by walking along tables and ledges and knocking vases off high places. He didn't bother turning on the lights as he went; he knew his own place like the back of his hand and there was no point in startling the feline into breaking something else until he got it. He wasn't looking forward to another sleepless night of cat-tag with a saucer of milk while crawling around on his knees making kissing noises and 'here, kitty' endearments.

The shadows of the shop below all seemed to be in the right place, and now that he thought of it, the crash had a more wooden tone to it. Maybe it was an old shield and he wouldn't be out the money of a broken object. Trying to spot a feline silhouette, Flynn was completely unprepared when he was tackled to the floor and the air knocked from his lungs. He'd have moved to throw his attacker off of him, if it hadn't been for the threatening press of a blade against his throat. Extensive knowledge told him that the cutting edge against his jugular was very nice; well cared-for, too. Flynn firmly told that analytical part of his mind to shut up.

His eyes were pretty well adjusted to the dark, well enough for him to make out that his attacker had long, dark hair, and equally dark eyes; their expression of cold hatred fading to one of profound confusion, brow furrowing as they stared at him as if expecting him to change into someone else if they just looked hard enough.

"You... aren't Alexei."

No, he most certainly was not the congressman, "Uh... no?"

Well at least he now knew his attacker was a male. He tilted his head cautiously, "Do you know where he is?"

"...Tolbyccia? Sorry, I don't really keep up with politics." And he thought that bit of info might have been about two months out of date, snagged from a few seconds of television he'd caught before running out the door to school with a piece of toast for breakfast in his mouth.

There was another thoughtful silence, "You don't know the senator?"

Ah, damn, he'd been wrong about what political position the man held, too. "Uh, no. Just a student; sorry."

His attacker stared at him hard, trying to discern if he was telling the truth, he suspected, before cursing virulently, "What the  _fuck_  was that idiot thinking?! Does he even  _check_  his information?" dark eyes glared down at him, "Do you have any idea how close I came to killing you?"

Flynn blinked, "...Do I really want to answer that question?"

His would-be assassin paused in his quick perusal of the shop around them to give him a glare before it smoothed away and he sat a little further back on his knees– still not taking the knife away, though, Flynn noted, "So then who are you?"

Of all the questions...! "It's rude to demand someone's name without giving your own. Who are  _you_?"

His attacker stared at him in surprise, "Right... far be it for me be rude while holding you at knife-point." he muttered wryly, "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not give out my name for when you call the cops; wouldn't want things to be too easy for them, right?"

Wait, if he was going to be able to call the cops, "So, just to be absolutely clear: you aren't going to kill me, then?" Flynn mentally face-palmed. Why the  _hell_  had he asked that? The last thing he needed to be doing was giving the would-be murderer ideas.

"Nope. Well, not unless you do something really stupid in the next two minutes. So here's how this is going to play out: I'm going to remove my knife, stand up, and leave; and you're not going to move until I'm out the door. After that– well, it's not I could stop you after that, anyway, so that's moot. Do we have an understanding?"

Absolutely, Flynn was very keen on living to see the sunrise, thank you very much. "Yes."

Cautiously, the blade was removed from his throat, though the stranger's intense gaze didn't leave him for an instant as he got up from straddling him and slowly backed towards the door, groping behind him for the handle– which Flynn noticed was bent at an odd angle.

He really didn't know what the hell was wrong with him when he opened his mouth again seconds from living through the frightening encounter, "You broke my door."

The other man tensed, and Flynn thought for sure he was about to die– (He could see the headlines for the morning paper now: 'Student murdered in his own home, cause of death: Stupidity.') before relaxing again and pulling the –broken– door open and stepping half-way out into the night. He paused and looked back at Flynn with something like consternation on his face, "Sorry about the door." before turning and running out into the night.

Flynn listened to the jangle of the little bell above the door as it swung closed –sort of– and let his head fall to thump back against the floor. "Well, that was... interesting." He was  _so not_  complaining the next time a stray got into the shop.


	2. Chapter 2

Flynn sighed as he set his bag on the counter and took his seat, glancing at the still-broken door in despair. Hundreds of dollars to fix a door. How was that even possible? There went his entire pay-check this month; he'd better get used to the taste of microwave noodles. There was nothing for it, so he set about getting his work done, sweeping up around the shop and polishing all the antiques and random knick-knacks, doing inventory –snort; like he'd sold anything– and after a dinner of cold take-out from the previous night, he started on his homework.

As expected, there wasn't a single customer; like anyone was going to come in the evening on a weekday, and he closed his workbook with another sigh as he looked around his shop. Dining room tables filled with vases and other delicates sat on the far side of the room, the whole left wall decorated with grandfather clocks, the room behind him out of the way of the main floor holding a multitude of weapons from different times past. And then he transferred his gaze to the stain-glassed pane and bent knob of his door with the beat-up little bell hanging above it. Nothing much he could do about it until he saved up some money.

He got up and headed upstairs to get ready for bed as true night set in, thoughts wandering towards political figures and wondering if he'd see a banner on the news with death announcements sometime in the near future.

Hearing a thud and muffled curse from downstairs, Flynn was on his feet in an instant and grabbing the metal baseball bat he'd put beside his bed after last night's encounter. He held it like the wooden practice swords he used so often in his kendo club and inched his way downstairs in silence. Just his luck to get robbed the day after the door couldn't lock.  _What god did I offend to get a week like this?_

Upon reaching the landing, he was so surprised at what he saw that his stance faltered and his bat lowered, "What are  _you_  doing here?!"

The form crouched by the front door jolted, hitting their head on the counter beside them and cursing in pain before looking back at him with a sheepish expression, hands held up defensively, showing a screwdriver, "Um... fixing the door?

Flynn was momentarily distracted by the relief of the thought of not having to shell out several hundred dollars on repair, "...Can you?"

"Yeah, no problem; I used to be a handyman." Flynn tried to –uselessly– look over the stranger's shoulder at the door, raising his would-be weapon when the other moved, "Whoa, easy. No knife this time."

This was officially the most surreal moment of his entire life, bar none. First this mysterious man broke in and almost killed him in the middle of the night, now he was on his knees and trying to fix the door he'd broken. There was only one response to a situation like this: "You want a soda or something?"

The stranger beamed at him in a way that completely transformed his face, "Soda's good. Could you get the light, too? And if you have some spare screws lying around, those would help. Otherwise we're going to have to make a trip to the all-night hardware store."


	3. Chapter 3

Flynn leaned over the man's –still didn't know his name– shoulder as he worked. He wasn't bugging him, point of fact, he was holding the flashlight. Really, what was weird after going to the hardware store with the man who'd tried to kill him the day before? "Almost done?"

"Almost. Hand me the– thanks."

"Yep." What the hell was even happening? All he knew was that he was now four sodas fewer, missing half a night's sleep, and his door was being fixed by his nameless assailant\handyman. In the light of the shop, he now had a clear view of the mystery man: his eyes a clear, deep black like a gem stone, hair a dark,  _almost_  black that actually leaned more towards purple. Not the strangest hair color ever; senator Alexei had natural white hair, Flynn even knew someone with naturally pink hair. And here he was, standing over him and holding a flashlight in a parody of a domestic chore. It could not get weirder than this.

"Light." Came the annoyed command, and Flynn jerked back to attention from where his mind –and light– had been wandering, watching as the last screw was tightened and the stranger let out a satisfied sigh, "There you go."

Flynn stepped back, turned off the light, and placed it on the counter as the stranger stood up and wiped his hands off on his dark-wash blue jeans before grabbing his opened soda from the counter and taking a swig, other hand slipping into the pocket of his black hoodie. Flynn couldn't contain himself anymore, "Why?"

"Why what?"

Flynn gave him an admonishing look, "Why do– all this? Why did you come back?"

The other shrugged, "Why didn't you call the cops?"

That was a good question, but what could he have said, anyway? 'Yeah, my place was broken into my someone trying to assassinate the congr– my mistake; the senator. Description? Dark hair, dark eyes. Smoldery voice.' Flynn closed his eyes at the last one; he'd obviously been awake for too long now if thoughts like that were crossing his mind. He settled for a shrug of his own, "Maybe I believe in second chances."

The mysterious stranger let out a bark of laughter, "Then you are barking up the  _wrong_  tree: I used up my second chance about thirty-seven chances ago."

"Maybe I believe in thirty-eighth chances, then."

The other looked away for a minute, his cheeks darkening, before looking back at Flynn, "Hey, you have anything planned tomorrow?"

"Uh, no... Why?"

He shrugged again, "I'll buy you lunch to make up for you having to buy the hardware tonight."

"Sorry."

He saw the other's face fall for an instant before he put on a painfully fake smile, "'sfine, I understand–"

"I make it a rule of mine not to go out with people whose names I don't know."

The silence stretched for a moment before he got a reply, "It's Yuri. Yuri Lowell."

The blonde smiled, "Flynn Scifo."

Yuri looked away and glanced at him from the corner of his eye, "So... I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sure. Where?"

"The Luna Cafe sound good?"

"Got it."

"Kay then..." The dark haired male hesitated for a moment before finishing his soda and opening the door, "...Night, Flynn."

Flynn smiled at the quickly-closed door, voice just loud enough to carry through it, "Good night, Yuri."


	4. Chapter 4

Yuri was leaning against the side of the building beside the door when Flynn arrived after his classes, "Hi, waiting long?"

The dusk-haired male shook his head, "Nah, let's go."

The went inside and got a booth by the window, a blue-haired woman –Flynn had  _known_  purple wasn't as strange as it got!– coming over, "May I take you– Well it's been a while, Yuri. Two months without a word, then you show up and stand outside long enough I thought you were auditioning to be an advertising statue."

Yuri sighed, "Judy, could you give us a few minutes?" He looked over at Flynn as soon as she left, "Ignore her, she's just screwing with me."

"You know her well?"

Yuri shrugged as he glanced over the menu, "I used to work here."

Flynn really wanted to ask what had happened, but that was most likely too rude for a first meeting, "I see..." he looked down at the menu he hadn't even gone over, "What do you suggest?"

Yuri shrugged again, "Anything, really. It's all good. They make great subs if that's your thing."

"Sounds good." They motioned Judy– Judith, Flynn corrected himself after a glance at her name tag, and he got the daily sub while he listened to Yuri order some kind of confectionary thing that made him want to brush his teeth just hearing about it; some kind of super-stuffed caramelized french toast thing. He hid his wince. Judith gave them both mugs of coffee before heading off with their orders. Flynn opened his mouth to ask a question when he froze in a combination of horror and curiosity as Yuri started ripping open and pouring sugar packets into his coffee. A lot of sugar packets. He tore them open two at a time and dumped them in, and Flynn could only watch as the male across from him steadily depleted the container under the window. "Would you like some coffee with your sugar?"

Yuri looked up from his –ruining– modifying, "Huh?" he looked down at the table, which was littered with empty packets. He hadn't differentiated between actual sugar and the artificial sweetener, either, and yellow and pink were scattered around his mug like so much jumbo confetti, "Oh." He stared down into his cup as he stirred the sweet sludge up from the bottom with his spoon.

Flynn looked at the container under the window and, seeing only three packets left, sighed and tore them open, pouring them into Yuri's cup. When the onyx-eyed male looked up at him in surprise and confusion, he smiled, "Not much point in leaving so little left."

Yuri smiled back at him and took a sip of his coffee, letting out a satisfied sigh; Flynn pressed his tongue against his itching teeth just from watching. He remembered the four sodas Yuri had gone through last night, too, and quickly deduced the worst thing that could ever happen to Yuri was developing diabetes– he wouldn't survive a week. Their meals arrived and Flynn almost gagged. The french toast on Yuri's plate was oozing caramel goo in generous quantities, the few banana slices and strawberries on top in no way making up for it, and drenched in enough powdered sugar to be mistaken for a snow scene from a child's diorama– which he then proceeded to drown in copious amounts of maple syrup. Flynn shuddered and focused on his sub.

Flynn looked up in some combination of masochism and skepticism, possibly not  _really_  believing Yuri could choke down something that sweet. He was quickly disabused when the dark hair male cut into it and scooped up a drowned bite of french toast, popping it in his mouth with a moan that made Flynn choke on his sub and look around to make sure no one was staring at them.

After another five minutes of putting up with Yuri's eating habits, Flynn asked a question to distract himself from his discomfort, "So, uh, how old are you?"

Yuri looked up from his coma-inducing disaster, "Twenty-one. You?"

"Same" Flynn answered, surprised, "Do you go to the university, too?"

Yuri snorted and went back to his meal, "Hardly. I dropped out of high school."

"O-oh..." the rest of lunch was quiet after that.


	5. Chapter 5

"So you live by yourself, too?"

Yuri nodded as he pushed the cart, stopping every few feet to toss something else in the buggy, "Well, not if you count Repede." the dog wuffed from beside his master's knee.

After two weeks of knowing Yuri, Flynn considered himself immune to the surrealism of the situation. After complaining about how much they were going out to eat ('Seriously, don't you ever miss your own kitchen on occasion?') and Flynn admitting to having  _no_  cooking skill, Yuri had dragged him out to get groceries so  _he_  could cook them dinner. "But no parents or anything?"

Yuri shrugged without even looking over from trying to apparently decide between two different jars of products that Flynn couldn't identify any further than 'cooking stuff', "Nah: dead."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Mine, too. How long?"

Another shrug, "All my life. I never knew them. Can't miss what you never had. You?"

"A few years. We were sideswiped by another car on the way home from my high-school graduation. Drunk driver."

"Asshole." Yuri muttered before finally deciding and tossing one of the jars into the cart. He looked up when they moved on, "Do you want pork or beef?"

Flynn stared, "And the difference is...?"

Yuri snorted, "Nevermind." Embarrassed –again– by his utter incompetence in all things cooking, Flynn grasped after a suitable way to change the subject, and got it when Repede came back with a dog toy in his mouth, then had to hide his smile behind his hand because the doll in the dog's mouth held an uncanny resemblance to the male standing next to him and rolling his eyes, "That's the only toy you're getting. We're here for  _Flynn_ , not ourselves."

Repede wagged his tail and held on to his new toy, Flynn and Yuri sharing a look; Yuri rolling his eyes at his pet while Flynn smiled, "I'm surprised they let him in here."

Yuri shrugged and added another container of spice to their growing purchases, "They know he'll behave. I used to work here and brought him with me every night. Oh, can you get a bag of dog food? It's in aisle seven on the bottom shelf, Repede can pick which one he wants."

"Sure." Flynn didn't bother remarking on the comment as he turned and was led off by Repede; one thing he'd learned about Yuri in their time together was that Yuri had worked a lot of places. He was still wary about bringing the subject up officially. They never spoke about the reason they'd met; Yuri never again mentioned the senator, but Flynn didn't see any news reports about murdered politicians, either, so he didn't bring it up. Besides having skill with a blade– which, really, was almost mandatory in Zaphias, Yuri never showed any violent tendencies. His temper was almost unnaturally calm and more often than not it was Flynn who lost his patience first and initiated their few shouting matches to date.

Repede pawed at his pants leg and Flynn looked down to see that he'd chosen a bag of food and had it pulled out into the middle of the aisle. He wondered for a moment if the dog would have tried to shuffle it all the way back to the cart if he hadn't been there. Repede was smarter than the average dog, that was for certain, and he shared a remarkably strong bond with Yuri, so Flynn didn't doubt he'd do whatever he could to make things easier for his human.

Flynn patted the canine and picked up the bag, looking through the aisles for a minute before admitting he had no clue where Yuri had gotten to and turned to Repede, "Can you find Yuri?"

The dog turned around and unerringly led him up to the front of the store, where he found Yuri at the checkout. He looked up and smiled when he spotted them, petting Repede as he jumped up and put his front paws on Yuri's shoulders to get attention,"Good boy." Flynn sincerely hoped he was talking to the dog, then obsidian eyes looked up and locked with his, the smile on Yuri's face saying he knew exactly what Flynn had been thinking, "What took you so long? Get lost?"

"In thought."

"Ah: the most dangerous kind of lost."

Flynn put the dog food on the conveyor belt and watched nervously as their total began to soar item by item. He was also concerned about the sheer abundance of things, because they only had the two of them to get all this stuff back to his place and neither of them had a vehicle.

He was so busy worrying he actually missed the total when it came up and Yuri handing over his card, he didn't miss the sound of the bags being grabbed up, "Yuri, you shouldn't be spending all that money on me."

The dark-haired male waved him off with a smirk, "Hey, it's not  _all_  for you. You vastly overestimate my chivalry if you think I'm going to cook amazing meals for you and not eat some myself."

Flynn rolled his eyes, giving up on the argument, but only for the moment; there'd be plenty of time for discussion as they hauled the multitude of groceries back to his place. The thought made him groan.


	6. Chapter 6

As soon as they got through the door Repede rushed upstairs, by the time they got there the dog was curled up on the single armchair, which he'd claimed as his own. Flynn was about ready to collapse when he put the bags on the table, shaking out his arms to get the circulation back into his fingers. He almost regretted it when the only feeling he got back was pins and needles.

Yuri's attitude wasn't in the least negatively affected by the journey, spreading his load out on the counter before rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie and digging through the bags, bringing out pots and pans which he peeled the stickers and packaging off of before tossing into the sink and turning on the water to begin scrubbing them.

Flynn walked into the modest kitchenette behind him, "Um, why are you washing brand new cookware?"

Yuri held up the pan he was washing, "Because you always do that. They have a protective coating on them in the store, and if you cook with them before washing it off, it gets burnt on there forever and nothing you cook with it ever tastes right."

Well, that answered one of his many cooking disasters, "Ah..."

Yuri just grinned and nodded towards the bags, "Go ahead and start putting that stuff away." Flynn went through the bags, putting spices into the previously-bare cupboards above Yuri where he could reach them easily. At Yuri's direction, he got out the stand mixer he'd never used before, adding in cream cheese, eggs, sour cream, sugar –he winced– and vanilla in exact proportions while Yuri eyed him like a hawk. Then he turned it on... and ducked as Yuri and the immediate kitchen got splattered in the mixture.

The look of sheer astonished surprise on Yuri's face was comical. Coming back from the shock, he wiped some of the white stuff off his cheek and licked it off his finger, "Well, at least you got the recipe right..."

Flynn blushed scarlet and looked away, "Haha, ah... Um, can I wash your hoodie for you?"

Yuri looked down at the splattered shirt and took it off, "Please do. And, uh... maybe just watch from now on until you get more used to things?"

Flynn mentally slapped himself to stop staring at all the muscles the very tight undershirt displayed, taking the dirty clothing to toss in the washer while Yuri sighed and started cleaning up his mess. When he came back ten minutes later, the kitchen was once again clean, and something was just being put in the oven. Yuri looked up when he came in and Flynn glanced away, making a show of holding his hands behind his back, "Sorry... But I warned you."

"Right. For future reference,  _never_  start a mixer out on the highest speed. You start low and work your way up to the speed you need."

"Ah, noted."

He sat at the table as he watched Yuri prepare pork chops, setting a very heavy– cast iron, he was informed– pan on the stove and heating it to ridiculous temperatures before searing the meat and popping it in the oven next to whatever was already in there. Then without pause Yuri switched from cooking to cleaning, turning the water back on and dismantling the mixer before cleaning it all and setting the parts in the drying rack. He did it all so effortlessly: Flynn couldn't take his eyes off of him. Then Yuri got out another new pan– this one looking like every other frying pan Flynn had ever seen– grabbed the fresh berries from the fridge and rinsed them before putting them into the pan with some sugar and letting it heat. Next he went to the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of liquor– exactly what kind Flynn couldn't really see– before pouring it into a measuring cup and putting the bottle back.

He then turned to face Flynn, "Okay, fun cooking lesson number two. This one is rather important, so pay attention. When adding alcohol to a recipe, you pour it into a small container–  _never from the bottle_ , and you turn the heat source  _off_ –" He did so, the bubbling berries having bled juice all over the bottom of the pan, "–and  _then_  you add it in, and do  _this_." Yuri turned the flame back on and proceeded to tilt the pan and  _set the berries on_ _ **fire**_. Flynn stared wide-eyed.

His voice was hoarse when he spoke, "Got it..." God, he could just envision himself leaning over the pan and setting his hair on fire with a stunt like that.

"When the fire burns low enough, just put on a lid, kill the flame, and walk away." Yuri did so, then pulled down a bowl from the cupboard and poured some dog food for Repede, whom Flynn had forgotten all about, and the blonde blushed for doing so. Yuri saw and smiled at him, "No worries, you were busy with... things."

Ah, yes; things like covering half the kitchen and his cook in mysterious white goo. "So where did you learn to cook?"

He expected the usual 'at this place I worked' that he had become used to, but Yuri shrugged, "Here and there. I just sorta... learned. You know, cooking programs, online recipes, random people on the street."

"Random people on the street?"

"Yeah, supposedly some cooks can 'just sense' when someone else has 'an inborn talent and innate passion for cooking', or something like that."

"I kinda see what they mean; you just look so natural doing it. Have you considered culinary school?"

Yuri's face darkened and he looked away, "I'm not really the school type." Flynn winced at bringing up a sensitive subject, but Yuri went on before he could apologize, "Besides, it's cook or starve, right?"

"Hey!" The awkward air left as they bickered back and forth over whether Flynn qualified as starved or not until the oven timer went off and Yuri got up to get things out, the whole house instantly filling with smells that had Flynn's stomach growling. He got out the dishes and silverware while Yuri dished things out. Flynn was in heaven from the first bite, "This is amazing."

"It turned out okay. This isn't all that special."

"As the cook, I don't think your opinion on your own dishes counts."

"Oh, is that right?"

Flynn took another bite and nodded, "Absolutely." Yuri rolled his eyes, but smiled the rest of the way through dinner. Flynn was rather apprehensive about dessert, knowing Yuri's penchant for sweet things, and when the berry-covered cheesecake slice was placed before him, he took a deep breath as if preparing to face some monster, bravely wielding his fork, he took a bite, "This is  _good_!"

Yuri gave him an annoyed look, "You don't have to sound so surprised. You were just singing my praises ten minutes ago."

Flynn blushed again, "Eheh... It wasn't your cooking skills I doubted, it was your taste." Yuri didn't look at all appeased; Flynn found he didn't much care and dug into his dessert.


	7. Chapter 7

Yuri had been silent since Flynn had come in the door– he'd gotten over his shock of coming home to find Yuri already there weeks ago– and after failing to get him to say anything, Flynn had started talking just to break the tension of the silence. It was an hour into this as he talked through an assignment that was troubling him while Yuri stomped around the kitchen that the storm finally broke.

"I really don't want to hear about how much your teachers suck or how you're leader of six different school clubs or whatever."

"Three, actually."

The dark-haired male paused, his annoyed look turning to one of confusion, "What?"

"I'm only in three clubs. Captain of the kendo club and debate club, but only vice-president of the student council."

Yuri rolled his eyes and turned back to his cooking, "Between all your classwork and activities and the store and trying to feed yourself, where do you find time for your friends?"

"He's waiting for me after school everyday and seems to have staked a claim on my kitchen."

Yuri paused and looked back at him, "Tell me I'm not your only friend."

"You're not my only friend." Yuri raised an eyebrow and he elaborated, "Estelle's my friend; she's the president of the student council."

"Don't you have a girlfriend or something?" Flynn winced and Yuri dropped the subject, but he seemed to at least have calmed down from whatever foul mood he'd been in, "So you just work constantly between school and the shop and never take any time for yourself? Don't you ever do anything exciting?"

"Yuri, you're the most exciting thing that's ever happened to me."

Yuri's arm froze mid-motion before continuing on, his voice drifting over his shoulder, "That's... a little pathetic."

Flynn laughed, "I dunno, seems to be working out for me pretty well. I have someone to talk to, good food to eat every day, and I can now make sandwiches without worrying about killing someone who eats them."

Yuri snorted, "So glad to hear I make a perfect housewife."

Flynn snickered as he got up and pulled out some of Repede's food and poured it into his dish, the dog uncurling from his dog bed– which Flynn couldn't quite remember acquiring– while the blonde changed his water. "I don't know; 'perfect' might be stretching it just a bit, I still have that pink shirt."

Yuri's eyes stayed glued to the pan he was frying potatoes in, but Flynn caught the pink on his cheeks, "Who needs a red shirt anyway? My entire wardrobe consists of black, white, purple, and blue. ...And I replaced that shirt."

Well, now that  _that_ door had been opened, "I wish you'd stop spending money on me."

Yuri looked over in confusion, "What do you mean?"

Flynn frowned, "Yuri, ever since we've met, you've been casually spending money on me. When we go out to eat, it's usually you that gets the bill. We go shopping for groceries that always seem to end up at my place and you walking off with the receipt..."

"It's not like I don't have money, Flynn!"

How had that even become an issue? "I'm not saying you  _don't_ have money, I'm saying you shouldn't waste it on me."

"Maybe it's not wasting when I use it on you. Maybe I'm better off wasting it on you than on something else."

The blonde sighed, "It's just... I don't want you to think you have to keep repaying me for– for when we first met."

Yuri put down the spatula and turned to Flynn, "You think I'm still spending money on you because I feel guilty?"

"Are you?"

" _No_. Ugh, Flynn, you're so... so  _naive_."

"About  _what_?"

Yuri huffed and turned back to the stove, "Just be quiet and finish your homework."

"Yes, mother."

Yuri growled at him; Flynn couldn't bring himself to care.


	8. Chapter 8

Flynn opened the front door, accustomed to seeing Yuri asleep on the front counter, Repede either sitting near-by or upstairs; he wasn't used to seeing Yuri's face black and blue, "Yuri?!"

The dark-haired male shot upright, yelped, and gracelessly fell off of his stool to land painfully on the floor, "Ah,  _fuck_  that hurt."

Flynn was closing and locking the door in an instant and by his side in the next, "What happened to you?"

He got a signature shrug in response, "It's nothing, I'm fine."

Flynn glared at him, "If this is you definition of fine, I'd hate to see 'hurt'. Did you get mugged or something?"

"Or something."

Sighing at the evasive answers, he pulled Yuri back to his feet, "Didn't go to a hospital or anything, did you?" He answered himself before Yuri even opened his mouth, "Of course not. Let's get you cleaned up."

"Why are you fussing at me?"

Flynn turned and stared him straight in the eye, "Because you are  _black and blue._  You're my friend and you look like you got the snot beat out of you. That gives me licence to fuss, now shut up and get upstairs before I drag you up." Grumbling the whole way, Yuri reluctantly complied, Flynn pushing him from behind where necessary until he'd pushed him into the bathroom –Repede was on laying in his bed, he noted– "Take a shower while I dig out my first aid kit."

"What, not going to stay and make sure I listen?"

Flynn gave him a frosted look, "I'll hold your head under the water if you'd prefer." The tone of his voice had Yuri closing the door and getting in the shower.

Satisfied with that, the blonde went in search of his never-before-used medical kit. It took a while since he hadn't seen it since the day he'd moved in and unpacked. ... _Had_  he even unpacked it? Hmm...

It took a bit of hunting, and a not-insignificant amount of mess-making that had his near-OCD tendencies shouting at him, but he finally found the kit in the bottom of the linen closet–  _how_  in the world it had gotten there another matter entirely and a mystery for another day. Regardless, cleaning could wait, because just as his fingers closed on the kit, he heard the shower cut off, and raised his voice loud enough to be heard down the hall as he got up off the floor, "Towel only; if you try to hide leg injuries with clothing you will  _not_  like the consequences!"

When Yuri came out, Flynn directed him towards his bedroom where he sat the dark-haired male down and opened the kit, pulling out bandages and things, then he turned to Yuri, who was taking a keen interest in the floor. Flynn let him stew as he looked at his many varied injuries. He was like a rorschach test of bruising from his cheeks to his feet. A colorful splotch on his cheek was treated with bruise cream and patched with gauze and medical tape, the cut just below his right eye was dabbed at with antiseptic, which had him wincing and hissing before it, too was bandaged. Flynn steadily worked his way down, Yuri's flinching when he touched his chest making him think that one of his ribs was cracked. There was a  _nasty_  bruise on the outside of his thigh, and the blonde tried to imagine the scenario: the unnamed attacker trying to go for a low-blow when Yuri curled on his side instead?

He treated each injury and wound in silence, ignoring the steadily increasing tension and the way Yuri was stiffening up. Flynn held his silence as he prodded at another bruise just below Yuri's kneecap; the other male was either incredibly good in a fight –which this kind of experience he didn't want to think about, because Yuri knowing how to move just enough to avoid debilitating injury...– or lucky that nothing had hit just wrong, because he was pretty sure the strength behind that blow would have been enough to break his knee.

By the time he was dealing with the road-burn on the backs of Yuri's legs, the man might as well have been a statue. Then, in the smallest voice Flynn had ever heard from him, he spoke at last, "I got fired..."

Keeping his own voice far more calm and level than he felt, Flynn asked, "What happened?"

"When I got off work the other day I saw this prick harassing this girl outside– the shouting, screaming for help kind of harassing, and no one was doing a goddamned thing about it, so I stepped up. I think I broke his foot; I  _know_  I broke his wrist. The girl ran off, and the bastard limped off, too. Then when I got there today, he was back– and about six of his buddies with him. They started trashing everything, and I tried– I  _tried_ , Flynn–" His voice broke, "Too many, though. Too fast. By the time they left the place was a mess; and so was I. My boss fired me on the spot for bringing trouble, kept my paycheck, too, not that I can blame him. I'm lucky nobody called the cops. I'm just one big fuck-up who screwed the pooch for the seven- _thousandth_  time. Yuri Clusterfuck Lowell."

"Stop that."

"Don't try to deny that you disapprove of my methods, Flynn. I saw you frown when I said I broke his wrist."

"You did what you felt was right, didn't you?"

Yuri scoffed, "What's that got to do with anything?"

"I think the woman you saved would think it counts." he was silent at that, and Flynn went on, "You saved someone. I know you, Yuri; you've got strong convictions– strong enough you were thinking about killing someone. Your methods aren't perfect, but then, nothing is. The system isn't perfect, either. I'm not advocating murder, or even violence, but you made the best of the situation at hand with what you had at the time. Would you do it again?"

Yuri sighed, "Yeah, that seems to be a chronic problem of mine: I never learn to keep my nose in my own business. ...Flynn, why do you care?"

"You're my friend. I'm also the one patching you up: that gives me the right to worry about you."

"I'll make it up to you; pay you back for the supplies."

Flynn shook his head as he wrapped Yuri's chest in bandages to brace his cracked rib, "You don't have to make anything up to me, Yuri. This is what friends are  _for_ : they're there for each other no matter what, not because they want recompense, but because they care." he finished up and sat back on his knees, "Now, how about you take a nap while I take care of dinner tonight? Any preferences?"

"Something that won't kill us."

"Sandwiches it is."


	9. Chapter 9

"It's cold."

"It's bracing."

"Yuri, if it were any colder you could use  _me_  as brace. I swear I'm freezing."

The long haired male rolled his eyes, "So go buy a cup of hot cider; I've got another few minutes before I'm off."

"What are they thinking keeping the fair open this late in fall?" he complained, leaned against the booth and waiting for Yuri's temporary job to end.

Yuri snorted, "Raking in a profit, apparently. I'm going to see tickets every time I close my eyes for the next two weeks." Flynn opened his mouth to complain about the weather again when Yuri grabbed his hand, "Come on. Shift's over, let's go have some fun."

Flynn let Yuri lead the way, not sure what they should do, and shivered again,"How can you stand these temperatures?"

Yuri gave one of his signature shrugs, "I ran away from a bad foster home one winter, I've been colder than this."

Flynn's chest clenched. He hated how casually Yuri mentioned things like that. He was glad he was trusted enough for the other to share parts of his past, but the lackluster way Yuri waved off things that would break most other people was painful.

Flynn was dragged first to the hot cider stand, where Yuri gave him a cup of the stuff to help warm him up; and he sipped at the hot liquid while Yuri tried to buy out the cotton candy stand. Ten minutes later, Flynn a bit warmer and Yuri hopped up on enough sugar to power four six-year-olds, they moved on to the games. Flynn was honestly surprised by how many people were around, Yuri caught the look and grinned at him, "Everyone wants to get out for one last bit of fun before it's too cold to do anything."

Before he could say something biting about how it was already too cold to be out by the ocean, he was dragged into playing carnival games with Yuri. The dark-haired male knew all the tricks after working here for a few weeks and whispered how to get around them into Flynn's ear when it was their turn. The milk bottles were no obstacle for Yuri and his outstanding aim, ring-tossing fairing no better; they walked away with a mushroom plushy that was destined for Repede, and Yuri was now sporting a pair of black bunny ears that he'd won. Flynn couldn't look his way without smiling and snickering– which, when he thought about it, may have been why Yuri got them.

"Cheery enough now to tell me what has you so down?"

Flynn sighed, "Just exams. Half of my teachers want their assignments turned in  _before_  the break so they have time to grade them over it, I suppose, which is more time that I need the library for research. Which is costing me money because this is one of the best times of year for the shop when people start checking around for odd gifts to get inspired. I'm also just... Christmas used to be this really big thing for my family, and though this is hardly my first year without them–"

"You still miss your parents. It's understandable. Consolation prize: you've got me and Repede, at least."

"You aren't a consolation prize." He missed Yuri's shocked look as he pulled him forward to try out that bell-ringing thing he'd always heard of. Flynn took up the hammer, lifted it high, and let it crash down with as much force as he could... and didn't quite make it. He sighed in disappointment and gave it to Yuri to try next. Yuri hefted the hammer and gave it his best shot... and didn't make it beyond the half-way point.

Dark eyes glared down at the hammer, "They're cheating, I know it. Who in the world is strong enough to hit that thing with enough force to ring the stupid bell?"

"It's a carnival, Yuri, they're kind of notorious for cheating. What can you do about it?"

Yuri looked from the sledge to the bell and back, then grinned, "There's only one thing to do when your opponent cheats. Cheat better." He handed over two more of the tickets he'd been paid in and pulled Flynn over with him, when the woman made to step in Yuri pinned her in place with a look, "Do you have our tickets?"

"Yes..."

"Then it's our turn." Yuri stood Flynn in front of him until he took the handle, then slid his hands in with Flynn's and looked at him with a grin, "Ready?"

The blonde nodded, ignoring the heat Yuri seemed to be radiating– no wonder he wasn't cold, he felt like a furnace! "Ready." They lifted up and the same time and brought it down together with all of their combined strength.

Ding!

Yuri crowed with laughter and jumped up, "Ha!" he beamed hugely and turned to the prize booth with his arms crossed, "If you're going to cheat, dammit, cheat fair." Flynn smiled at Yuri's enthusiasm, and accepted his own pair of bunny ears graciously.

They walked from stall to stall after that, spending more time talking than playing: Flynn's mood was a lot brighter now. Yuri seemed to have that effect on him, "Estelle wants to decorate the whole university to 'encourage holiday spirit' and Rita's been trying to talk her out of it since she first brought it up. I've been staying out of it entirely."

"Why?"

"I am  _not_  about to put myself in the middle of two women with opposing agendas: I may be blond, but I'm not  _that_  blond."

Yuri's question came between his snickering, "So who are you actually hoping will win?"

"I don't know, really. I like the whole holiday decorations, but I don't want to be part of the group putting them up everywhere..."

"That's a sentiment I can understand. Come on, let's head back, you're starting to shiver and Repede is probably climbing the walls."

"Just when I was having fun."

Yuri grinned, "Ah, but you see, that's the trick: Always leave them wanting more."


	10. Chapter 10

Flynn woke up to banging downstairs and didn't bother to grab his bat on the way down. Honestly, the chances of it not being Yuri were small enough that he was willing to take the risk. If Yuri broke his door again, though...

He turned the light on on the way to the door and blinked at the scene on the other side, the little bell tinkling merrily overhead, "Yuri? What's wrong?"

Yuri stood on his step in his coat, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder and Repede at his knee, "My building lost heat, which kinda made the water pipes burst, so Repede and I have no heat, no drinkable water, and a soggy carpet. I was really hoping you wouldn't mind us crashing with you for a while."

Flynn moved aside and Repede took that as an open invitation, making a break for the second floor with his Yuri doll firmly in his mouth while his master was more hesitant and shifted from foot to foot when Flynn realized he still hadn't answered yet, "Yeah, of course." they were practically living there already. From the time he came home to however late it got before Yuri was nearly falling asleep on his feet and dragged himself back to his place, "Why didn't you just come in and camp out on the couch until the morning and ask me then?"

Yuri slid past him, "Trying to cut back on the whole B&E thing. You know, go straight... so to speak."

"You picked an absolutely horrible time to grow a set of morals; I have a massive test in the morning."

Sure enough, Yuri grinned, "Sorry, I'll remember that the next time I'm tempted to change my nefarious ways. Want me to prepare some coffee?"

"My coffee or your coffee?"

"Your coffee... Though I'm sure the sugar rush could only help–"

" _No_ , thank you."

Yuri shrugged as he ascended the steps and flicked the light off right before Flynn got there, which the blonde was used to and didn't even complain about– he'd learned early on that complaining only made Yuri do it more, and didn't help the pain of his stubbed toe; he'd just learned the exact number of steps from the front door to the first of the stairs– forty-seven, if Yuri ever got curious.

Yuri's voice called down from above, "Which of us made dinner last night?"

"You can't remember?"

"I'm tired, cold, wet, and not in a good mood. Indulge me."

"I did. Ham sandwiches, remember? You complained that I put too much mayo on yours and it slid down."

"Ah, right. Paninis and soup for breakfast, then."

"...It's four AM."

"Early breakfast."

"What can I help with?"

"I'm already buttering the bread; go ahead and get out the fixings. We'll slum it today and go with canned soup, because I really don't feel like tending a soup pot for a few hours right now. I have to remember to make some soon and freeze it..."

Flynn got out the ham and cheese, setting the mayo next to Yuri since he knew what he was doing, then went to get ready for an early day. Repede was curled up in his dog bed with his Yuri doll and fast asleep. Flynn ruthlessly quashed his jealousy for the canine. By the time he came back out dressed for the day, he was wide awake and hating it; Yuri held out a cup of coffee in his direction that immediately brightened his outlook, sipping his own coffee-flavored syrup.

The scent of coffee and crisping cheese and ham significantly perked up his morning and Flynn actually felt half-way human, "Remind me what paninis are."

"Squashed grilled sandwiches." Yuri moved to reveal two large sandwiches squished between the stovetop-grill and –he assumed screaming hot– cast iron skillet.

"Any lessons for this meal?" Always best to check just in case.

"Make sure you remember to butter the bottom of the skillet, too."

Flynn nodded and made a mental note of that, because he probably wouldn't have thought of that– then again, he probably wouldn't have thought of making a home-made panini press. He didn't think of a lot of the things Yuri came up with when cooking. By the time his second cup of coffee was gone, breakfast was ready and they sat down to a hot meal. There were no fancy grill marks and Yuri hadn't bothered cutting them into charming triangles, but his sandwich proudly proclaimed it was made in china courtesy of the skillet and the fact that it wasn't cut into preschool shapes didn't seem to affect the taste any– which was always fantastic whatever Yuri made. How they could both make something as simple as sandwiches and come up with completely different flavor profiles– a phrase he had never needed to know before meeting Yuri– he didn't know.

Flynn was on the way to the sink when he facepalmed; it was a good thing he was up early anyway, he hadn't gotten to complete all his homework yesterday because he'd been working on that course project he had to turn in before the holiday. He got out his books and settled in to finish his work when Yuri stood up, "I'm gonna go take a shower and see if I can warm up some."

"You may have a little trouble with that; I think something's wrong with the hot water heater."

Yuri waved him off, "I can fix that." Flynn didn't doubt it.


	11. Chapter 11

Flynn was astonished when he came home, his jaw dropping and his bag hitting the floor. Yuri grinned up at him from behind the counter, "Welcome home. Dinner's ready upstairs."

Flynn couldn't stop looking around, "What...?" The entire shop was decked out in holiday fair: metallic green tinsel hanging from the walls with red bows holding it up; strung across the ceiling with ornaments hanging from it, wreaths in the windows, and his few sparse christmas lights blinking from select corners, "You did all this while I was at school?"

Yuri shrugged, "I did this before I opened the shop this morning. You were right about people pouring in for the season."

"You were open?"

"Yeah; no problem. Found all your folders and binders in the bottom drawer, so I knew everything I had to. Oh, fixed the water heater, too."

"...And dinner's ready?"

"Yeah."

Flynn looked around the shop again before turning back to Yuri and said, completely seriously, "I take back what I said before: you really are the perfect housewife."

Coal-dark eyes narrowed, "Shut up. Don't make me kick your ass."

"...Um, you know I'm a trained martial artist, right?"

"Didn't seem to do much the first time we met."

"I will remind you that you had a knife to my throat."

"So what, your awesome skills only work on the non-deadly threats? Very helpful."

Already seeing it coming, Flynn instinctively dropped into a defensive stance, "Yuri... Don't."

The long haired male smirked and ran at him, Flynn reacted without thinking and grabbed Yuri's wrist just below his hand– which he noticed after the fact had that damn knife in it again– and effortlessly flipped him onto his back, twisting his wrist to dislodge the blade.

The look on his friend's face reminded him of the time he splattered the kitchen in cheesecake batter, "I warned you..."

Instead of getting angry like he thought, Yuri beamed up at him, "You have to teach me that!"

"...Okay?"

Yuri rolled over and shook out his hand, picking up his knife and closing it, putting it away Flynn knew not where. "Let's go; I'm hungry and tired of waiting."

Flynn followed him upstairs, the smell of homemade stew and dumplings filling the kitchen and living room. Yuri set a cup of hot chocolate– also homemade, which Flynn hadn't even known was a thing– for him while drinking his own; which was probably more marshmallow than anything, Yuri was considerate enough to have made Flynn's with dark chocolate and he sighed happily as his hands and throat finally warmed up. The walk home seemed to get longer every day as the temperature dropped. He was brought out of his thoughts when a bowl of stew was placed in front of him, digging in with gusto. It didn't even need saying anymore: anything Yuri made was excellent. "Thanks. This is great."

Yuri paused from inhaling his own to smirk at him, "Of course it is, I made it."

"I'm getting better!"

"Canned soup."

"I can defrost things, too." he stated proudly.

They grinned at each other when Repede walked into the kitchen and went to the window, whining like he wanted to be let outside. Yuri looked over and groaned, "Oh, well; it was nice while it lasted, I suppose."

"What?"

He nodded towards the window, "First snowfall. Repede  _loves_  snow. I can't keep him away from the stuff. Snowball fetch, chasing snowflakes, snow mystery-shapes."

" 'Mystery-shapes'?"

A shrug, "He's a dog, angels are a little out of reach considering."

"Ah. So that means I get to watch you two play in the snow?"

"Don't look so smug. We're living together, that makes him your dog now, too; don't think he won't drag you out if I'm not close enough."

Flynn stared open-mouthed for a minute, "He wouldn't."

Yuri just smirked at him until Flynn got uncomfortable and looked away– to see Repede staring at him with that uncanny intelligence. Flynn swallowed hard at the look in the canine's eyes.


	12. Chapter 12

Flynn groaned as he trudged through the snow, never happier to see the shop come into view, shaking off all the sticking frost that clung to his clothes before he dragged it all inside to melt everywhere. As soon as he opened the door, the smell of gingerbread filled his nose. Yuri seemed to be on a cooking spree lately, Flynn had been taking enough treats to school to share with the rest of the student council and yet every time he got back, there always seemed to be even more.

He suspected it was because Yuri hadn't found another job since he'd moved in, too busy tending the shop, but Flynn knew from personal experience how boring that could get on a slow day. He was probably cooking to keep from getting bored. The blonde was certain he'd gained at least five pounds since Yuri had moved in.

"I'm home!" Yuri wasn't in the shop, but that wasn't surprising, he seemed to close up about an hour before Flynn got home so he could get dinner ready. Zaphias University had been flooded with all manner of christmas and winter-themed treats of Yuri's crafting, everything from gingerbread to sugar cookies to snowballs– little balls of cake covered in marshmallow and rolled in shredded coconut– to yule logs and more. He'd even taken to making dog-safe treats for Repede. Flynn was becoming of the opinion that he couldn't wait for the holiday season and winter in general to be over. A stir-crazy Yuri was not a fun person to be trapped in a room with.

At least he wasn't tortured with endless renditions of christmas carols at home like at school. Estelle was  _way_  too into the whole holiday thing and had Christmas songs playing constantly in the background after having Rita high-jack the backup speaker system. Instead, when Flynn got home, he was greeted with up-beat, fast-paced dancing songs. Yuri liked music, and he liked it loud and fast and heavy; something with a quick rhythm and harsh base beats. He said it helped him drown out his thoughts and gave him something to move to while he cooked.

Sure enough, approaching the stairs, Flynn could already feel the vibration of the song– something with a latin beat. He stopped just off the stairs where he was mostly hidden by the fridge and leaned in to look into the kitchen. Yuri was shirtless– his preferred state when the house was heated and working in the warmth of the kitchen– his hair pulled up in a clip, barefoot in black jeans, hips swaying to the rhythm of the music while he mixed something, an enormous smile on his face. He hummed along to the tune, occasionally mouthing the words when he got to a part he particularly liked.

Repede was nowhere to be found– probably hiding in the bedroom under the bed to protect his ears. Flynn could feel the music thumping against his eardrums already, but decided to ignore it, leaning against the fridge to watch Yuri in motion. His hips flicking back and forth were distressingly hypnotizing, and Flynn thought he should probably find that more worrisome than he did. Yuri didn't move like a fighter, he moved like a dancer, whole body swaying. He didn't just tap his feet, either, he twisted them at the ankles in a way that made Flynn want to see him with jangle-anklets on, the bells tingling with every movement.

Flynn didn't dance– at all. He didn't even tap his feet. He didn't hum, he  _might_ , if no one else was around, mouth the words to his favorite songs, but that was it. Yuri Lowell put his everything into anything he did: cooking, dancing, singing...

Yuri spun in place on his heels and grabbed a pastry bag from the table before twirling back around, filling it with whatever he'd had in the bowl and moving over to pipe it onto a sheet tray. Flynn ran through the options: eclairs, cream puffs, marshmallow snowmen... He got momentarily distracted when the song paused in the beats for a languid instrumental and Yuri went from flicking his hips to swiveling them in figure eights. He went beyond merely distracted when Yuri bent over to open the oven and put his confection inside.

Flynn wasn't prepared in the least when Yuri straightened up and spun around, meeting him eye-to-eye and jumping a foot in the air, reaching over to turn the boombox down to a mere hum, "Jesus, Flynn, give me a heart attack, why don't you?" Yuri cocked his head, "You alright?"

Releasing the cheek he'd been biting, Flynn nodded and stood up, "Yeah, just cold."

"Well come in and sit down, then, I finally got around to making chicken soup like I planned. I just got done putting meringues in the oven."

The thought of more sweets made Flynn hold back a wince, "I think we should have a bake sale." Well, that hadn't been what he'd meant to say at all...

"You think so?"

He wasn't going to pass up the chance his subconscious had given him, though, "Yeah. Everyone on the student council loves your treats, it's the season for them, and it can help bring in some money, too."

Yuri tilted his head, then smiled, "Alright; I'll do a little more baking and pack up, then come with you to school tomorrow."

Flynn nodded before freezing. Yuri coming to school with him. Yuri meeting Estelle and Rita and them meeting him.  _Oh, god, what did I just get myself into?_


	13. Chapter 13

"Uh, Flynn?"

"Yeah?"

"Is there any particular reason you're strangling my hand?"

He looked down and noticed he'd actually cut off circulation to Yuri's fingers; he immediately loosened his grip, "Sorry. Just... tense."

"Last few days before the holiday and those projects are due, right? No wonder."

Flynn wasn't even thinking about the stupid projects– which he still had to proof and go over a final time before turning in– he was more worried about whether the school would still be standing when the day was through. It wasn't that he doubted Yuri's ability to behave... much, it was just that Flynn knew Rita didn't  _have_  that ability, at all. Rita was caustic and snappy and– well, Rita.

They entered the school building and Flynn closed his eyes to take a fortifying breath– "Eeek!"

Yuri shoved his duffle at Flynn before he could register what was happening and then went down in a huff, "Oof!"

Flynn blinked at the empty space his best friend had been in a moment before, his gaze drifting downward to find Yuri and Estelle sprawled out on the floor... and face-palmed. It was starting already. "Yuri, this is the student council president, Estelle."

The pink haired girl scrambled up, "Oh, hi! I'm Estelle."

"Yuri." The dark-haired male replied before looking up, "What were you doing, anyway?"

"Oh! I finally got them to agree to the holiday decorations, so I was putting them up. ...I fell off the ladder." Flynn held in a groan at the thought of spending hours putting up the decorations just to take them down again at the end of the week.

"So I noticed. How about I help with that? I already did the shop; and you can sell my baking."

Estelle clapped her hands together, "Oh, you're having a bake sale?"

"Yeah, Flynn thought it'd be a good idea."

The pink haired girl's eyes narrowed as she looked between them, "How do you know Flynn?"

Before the blonde could stop him, Yuri answered, "We live together."

Flynn ducked away as Estelle tried to slap him with her scarf, "Flynn! You never told me you had someone!"

"I–"

"And how long has this been going on?"

Again Yuri spoke before Flynn could warn him, "A few weeks now, since that first cold snap, but we've known each other for a long time now."

Flynn sighed as Estelle's mouth dropped open in shock. It wasn't like he was ashamed of Yuri or anything. It wasn't even the thought of the awkward 'how did you meet?' questions that had kept him quiet. It was just... Yuri was his. He'd dropped into his life from nowhere and made a place for himself, and Flynn was for the first time in his life being selfish in keeping Yuri all to himself instead of laying their entire relationship out for Rita and Estelle to dissect; they'd just ask a whole bunch of embarrassing and confusing questions he didn't know the answers to. Flynn envied how Yuri could communicate with Repede and wished he had someone that non-judgmental he could talk to about things.

Estelle set them to work putting up decorations while she laid out all of the dark-haired youth's baking dishes, but she mostly left them alone since Yuri seemed to know what to do when it came to putting up decorations. Flynn was left holding the ladder while the other male stuck tinsel to the walls, "Estelle is now going to be convinced we're dating."

"I noticed that after I spoke. Is she always so–"

"Energetic?"

"Sure, let's go with that."

"Yeah. She's the sugar to Rita's spice, I'm just the errand-runner."

"You don't have any trouble standing up to me when you've got an opinion, what's so different about her?"

"Says the guy who's on the ladder for her."

Yuri blinked down at him before looking at the tinsel in his hand, "I'll be damned. How does she  _do_  that?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, but that's why she's the president."


	14. Chapter 14

"I'll get the last of these set up in the council room, you go see what Estelle wants." Yuri shooed him off. The blonde could only watch as the other marched off towards the council room. Once again, Yuri had thrown his everything into the task, continuing to decorate when Flynn had been forced to head off to class.

Estelle was practically bouncing when Flynn got to her, and he recognized well those symptoms, "...How much of the product did you eat yourself?"

The pink haired girl glanced down at the floor, "The little 'snowball' things are  _so good_... I paid for them all, though! So it's not like I stole them!"

"I didn't say you did." Boy, was Rita going to have fun trying to get their president to calm down for their partner-presentation project. Flynn wasn't sure if he envied them for being able to get it over with early or was glad he didn't have to turn in his own yet.

"Everything sold out."

"...How much of it did you buy?"

"Well... Some of everything, but it really is good."

Flynn shook his head as he helped put everything away, "Thanks."

Estelle smiled at him, "I'm still upset with you for not telling me about him, but I'm still your friend. So, don't be strangers, okay?"

He winced, "We'll try."

"That's all I ask for."

They found Yuri being grilled by Rita in the student council room, "I aged out of the system and lived on my own until I met Flynn, alright? Would you like my social security number and thumbprint to verify who I am?"

Estelle put her hands on her hips and puffed out her cheeks, "Rita, it's rude to interrogate people."

"He's just been living with Flynn for over a month and we know nothing about him!"

"And I haven't murdered him yet." Yuri interjected, casting a wry smile Flynn's way that made him want to both smile, and beat his head against the nearest wall. Of all the– "He's too quick with that flippy-thing for me to stab him."

"Yuri!  _Don't_  give them ideas about you!"

The long haired male just grinned unrepenitently at him, "Why not? We already gave Estelle ideas, it's not fair to leave her out of it."

"My name is  _Rita_ ; Rita Mordio, not 'her'."

"Hi, I'm Yuri Lowell and not 'you hooligan with the long hair'."

Estelle gasped, "Rita, you didn't..."

The short brunette attempted to burn a hole through Yuri's head before sniffing and turning away with her arms crossed. Estelle pulled her aside to whisper something– Flynn hoped it was about manners, and he moved to the opposite side of the room by the window with Yuri.

"Sorry about, well, both of them."

The dark haired youth shrugged, "You've got good friends."

Flynn smiled at him, "Yeah, all three of them."

Yuri smiled back at him when Estelle drew their attention by gasping loudly, one hand over her mouth and the other pointing at them. Rita chuckled evilly next to her while the boys exchanged confused looks, "Look  _up_."

Blue and black both looked skyward at the same time to spot leafy green foliage with bright red berries tied in a bundle: mistletoe. "I don't think it counts–"

"It  _does_." both females said, scarily in sync.

Flynn was near panic as he looked between his housemate and the girls. Yuri shrugged, "It's Estelle, right? Are you going to argue with her?"

Between Rita's menacing look and Estelle's innocently hopeful one, the blonde mentally cursed before turning back to Yuri, "I... I'm sorry."

Flynn was already leaning forward when Yuri answered him, breath whispering across his lips, "I'm not."

Before the blonde could register the meaning of the words, his mind was robbed of all thought when Yuri's mouth met his. Weeks of frustration of watching Yuri's every motion in the kitchen, watching those haunting hips swish, smelling the scent that was everything Yuri every time he sat on the couch, all the holding back: gone. Yuri gasped against him and that was it, Flynn swept his tongue into the warm cavern of Yuri's mouth, arms coming up around his neck to pull him closer. Yuri groaned into his mouth and Flynn put his hand out to catch himself as he crushed Yuri to him, groaning himself when fingers tangled in his short locks and tugged pleasantly, sending lighting shocks down his spine.

"Oi!  _Kiss_ , not make-out under!"

They broke off with a gasp as Rita pulled them unwilling from the deliriously pleasurable haze they'd lost themselves in. Flynn glared at her over his shoulder, Yuri panting against his throat, when he realized he'd pushed the other up against the cold glass of the window. He blushed and backed off a bit, looking down, "Sorry."

Yuri leaned in close, breath ghosting across Flynn's cheek as he again whispered, "I'm not."


	15. Chapter 15

Flynn watched the object of his thought through the window, mind in a jumble. Two days later, and he still wasn't sure exactly what that kiss meant. Yuri hadn't pushed him to decide one way or the other, which just left him even more confused. Yuri'd said he wasn't sorry about it, but he didn't make any attempt to initiate anything more– not that Flynn did, either...

He sighed as he watched the dark-haired boy putting Repede through his paces, making and throwing snowballs every which way; Repede didn't miss a one. Then Yuri brought out the frisbee, sending it spinning off with the same skill and accuracy he showed with snowballs, cookware aimed for the sink, and baseballs at sea-side carnivals: the disk making unexpected turns mid-flight that had dog and owner reaching for their limits. After running off some of the canine's seemingly endless energy, Yuri took him through tricks together that had Flynn gaping.

He bent over and said something the blonde couldn't make out at the distance, Repede hopping up on his back, then he tossed the frisbee over his shoulder where Repede caught it while backflipping from him and landing in the snow. Then Yuri rolled the disk across his shoulders and tossed it high into the air for Repede to go after, using his owner as a springboard. He went over where several other frisbees were laying and picked all of them up, giving a command that had Repede dancing in place, then Yuri threw the disks one after another in several directions like so many playing cards at a poker table. Flynn was certain there was no way the dog would be able to get them all. But Repede took off in a blur of color, jumping to get the first disk and dropping it as soon as he had it, turning on a dime and launching for the next nearest one, which he only had to hop a bit to get, then spinning around and racing towards the third that he had to crouch to get before it hit the snow. Flynn thought it was over; he'd never get the last one, but Repede ran pell-mell for it and rolled over as he dove under the fluffy snow, catching the last frisbee.

The bundled-up youth jumped in excitement and Repede got up, tail going a mile a minute. Yuri tapped his chest and the dog took off for him, leaping at the last minute for his human to grab him and spin around in victory before falling back into the snow and panting with exertion. Flynn found himself smiling at them and got up to get his coat and winter gear on, blue knit hat with pompom on it to match Yuri's red one.

The dark-haired boy was still puffing when Flynn got outside, owner and dog, both, laying in the snow to cool off after their workout. The blonde sat in the snow beside them and Yuri smiled up at him, "Hey."

"Hey." ...And he still didn't know what to say about everything.

"What do you want to do?"

He looked over at the duo, "Hmm?"

"Actually seeing your school sorta brought it home, so... what do you want to do? You know, what are you going to be?"

Flynn shrugged, "I'm actually not too sure. I'm taking lots of courses so I have options, but I don't know for sure. When... when my parents died, I sold the house, bought and moved into the shop, and used the life insurance money to put myself through school. The past three years have been about doing the best I can, you know, to make them proud. But I haven't really thought about anything after that. Actually, if I'm honest, I've been trying not to think about it. I've always been go-go-go, better-faster-more, have to do the best. I don't think I've ever really just taken the time to relax and enjoy myself until I met you."

"Don't focus too much on the future, Flynn, or your present will be past before you get the chance to live it. Appreciate what you have while you have it."

"That easy?"

"That simple, at least; easy is another matter entirely. Don't dwell so much on what should be or what could have been, live in the moment and take it for what it is."

Flynn let out a short whistle that had Repede on his paws again, and he tossed the first disk within reach, sending him running after it and getting him off Yuri. The dark haired male shivered without the canine's warmth to blanket him, watching calmly as Flynn took his place, leaning down over him until their foreheads were almost touching, "Just... enjoy the moment, huh?"

"That's it. Appreciate what you've got while it's yours."

"Are you mine, Yuri?" Flynn almost wished he could physically shove the words back in his mouth; unsay them. At the same time, they were a weight off his chest; that was what he'd been holding in for two days, and it was such a relief to get it out.

His life was measured in heartbeats: one, two, three; then Yuri smiled up at him, "I've been waiting for you to ask."

Flynn's breath erupted from him in a gasp of relief, "That simple?"

Yuri gave him a mild incredulous look, "Simple? Do you have any idea how difficult it was for Rita and I to time our 'argument' for when you and Estelle came in and pick the right spot to hang the mistletoe?"

The blonde's body jerked in surprise and he stared down at Yuri in pure shock, " _What?!_ "

The dark-haired male under him had the gall to shrug nonchalantly, then smirked at his continued flabbergasted expression, "Remember that screaming little banshee I helped out way back?"

" _Rita?!_ "

"Uh-huh. She owed me, so she was pretty willing to help me get you under the mistletoe. ...Are you mad?"

Flynn closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "I am... very, very upset... that you thought you had to trick me into kissing you with mistletoe. I have been torturing myself by watching you dance around the kitchen while cooking all month. I was about ready to say to hell with it all and do... well, something, I hadn't quite decided what. Then we kissed and you said you weren't sorry, but didn't do anything else."

He was given one of those semi-scolding looks were usually reserved for when he'd done something really stupid in the kitchen, "You were the one who said you  _were_  sorry."

"...We're both idiots, aren't we?"

His housemate –boyfriend? Just maybe?– gave a short, amused snicker and smirked, "...Yup. So, ready to open your christmas present?"

Flynn blinked, sure he'd heard that wrong– or at the very least that his libido had interpreted it wrong, "What?"

Yuri didn't look away, "I'm cold, it's christmas eve, and I just said I'd be yours. You're in college; the math shouldn't be too difficult here."

Flynn didn't let himself think too much on that and smashed their lips together, Yuri opening for him instantly, chill fingers brushing across Flynn's neck and sending goosebumps across his skin. It was freezing and his knees weren't happy with the hard ground and he couldn't feel his nose and it was just... completely and utterly perfect.


	16. Epilogue

"Judy, get your mits off my man; we're both  _gay_."

"Then he shouldn't have an issue with me hanging on him."

"He's not the one with the issue of you hanging on him,  _I am_!" With an amused huff the blue haired woman walked off and Yuri let his head fall against Flynn's shoulder, "Tell me we can go home."

"Sorry, we promised."

"I hate you."

"You love me."

"Prove it."

"You're still here."

His dark-haired boyfriend scowled at him, "You've been taking lessons from Estelle, haven't you?"

"Does it show?"

They had both cleaned out the shop earlier in the day and shoved everything up against the walls or put it in the back room, leaving the tables free for the homemade dishes of Yuri's celebratory feast. Flynn wasn't ashamed to admit to himself that he was nervous about the future, and his anxiety must have shown, because dark eyes looked at him in amusement, "You okay?"

"Yeah, fine."

"You sure? Cause you're shaking."

"You're kidding."

"Yeah, I am." the dark head tilted, "Ready for the next big step forward?"

He smiled sheepishly, "...Marriage?"

Yuri punched him in the shoulder, "Oh, very funny. I meant getting a job, you bum."

"I guess I have to to support my perfect housewife."

"If you don't take that back, I swear–" Flynn never got to find out what Yuri swore, because someone appeared behind said scowling male and put his hand on Yuri's shoulder before Flynn could warn him– either the stranger about his boyfriend's reflexes or Yuri about the person in question. The rest of the room fell silent as the new-comer was flipped over the long-haired man's shoulder to land on the floor.

"I'm not sure which hurts worse, my heart or my body..."

The purple-haired male's expression was nothing short of astonished, "Old Man?!"

The scruffy man grinned up at them, "Hey, there, kiddo."

"Uh, Yuri, who is this gentleman on our floor?"

Yuri glanced between Flynn and the man still on the ground, straightening up and turning half away to stare at the floor and starting to fiddle with his hair as he only did when nervous about something, "His name is Raven and he's, I guess, technically, sort of... my dad."

"Excuse me?!"

Yuri gave him a quick look before mumbling, "Raven was my last foster before I aged out. I only barely kept in contact with him." Then he glared at Raven, "He's also the one who gave me your address."

Raven spoke up, not seeming in any hurry to get up, "Brought Karol along, too."

Yuri stiffened up before obviously forcing himself to relax, taking a deep breath and letting it out, "I'll talk to him later." he looked towards the blonde and away again: jerking his head to the side in an apparent plea for them to find some privacy. Flynn nodded and they found a quiet spot, "You have questions."

"A couple. I've been waiting for the right time to ask them for a long time now."

Yuri spouted off what was quickly becoming his motto, "No time like the present."

"Why did you leave Raven and your... Foster brother?"

The dark head nodded, confirming his guess, "I was... really stupid before I met you, Flynn. I did a whole lotta stuff I'm not proud of. I didn't like who I was, and I didn't want to be a bad influence on Karol so I... took myself out of the equation. I was an idiot and got in a lot of trouble: gang shit, busting cars... breaking and entering. I did six months in juvie and I hated who I was. Hated other people more, though, like Alexei. His stupid bill put a lot of people in bad places, people I knew, people like Karol. I was desperate, and again, stupid. So I asked the Old Man, and he gave me an address;  _your_  address."

"Random luck you wound up in my shop?"

"The luckiest I've ever been."

Blue eyes blinked, "What do you mean?"

Yuri gave him an amused\exasperated look that always made him feel warm and, well... glowy, "Flynn, you gave me a chance when everyone else had already given up on me. Before I met you, nothing would have convinced me to see Karol again. I wasn't someone I wanted him to be around."

"What's changed?"

"You. Me. You changed me. No matter how bad I messed up, you believed I could do better, and I wanted to prove you right." Yuri looked away, "I applied to the Wonder Culinary Institute..."

Flynn leaned forward in suspended excitement, "And?"

"...I begin next semester."

A huge grin broke out across his face and he couldn't stop beaming, "Yuri, that's  _great_! You'll make a great chef!"

His boyfriend looked away, cheeks red, "Yeah, I think I will."

A few moments of silence prompted him to say his own peace, "Yuri..." dark eyes glanced up from the floor, "You aren't the only one who's changed, you know. You helped me see that there was more to life than work. I've also finally decided: I'm going into politics, I want to make things right, help correct things that people like Alexei have screwed up. I don't think I'd ever have been able to relax enough to live my life if you hadn't broken in that night."

Yuri leaned against him, "I've fucked up a whole lot of things in my life: you're the one thing that I got right." he held out his hand.

Flynn twined their fingers together, "Yuri, what if I said I wasn't kidding earlier about the next big step?"

He felt Yuri tense against him, "...Are you asking me to marry you?"

"I am."

Dark locks tickled the side of his neck as Yuri leaned into him, fingers tightening, "I'd say yes. We may not have forever, but it'll be a long road together, and I'll be there with you every step of the way."

"Together."

"Together."


End file.
